The Story of You and Me : Memoriam
by Ravenpan
Summary: Memories of Goten and Trunks's lifetime together.... with a twist. (more inside - companion fic) (complete) (Winner of TSoYaM branch-off contest!)


(Concurrent to Part Eight of The Story of You and Me_ by DJ Fusion_ found here on FF.Net on story ID #1247836 . Go there. Read it. It is very good *nod*.) [I tried to link it... but ff.net doesn't seem to like that...]  
  
I hope you enjoy my story - even if you haven't read TSoYaM, it should be able to stand alright alone. I do not own them, I just torture them. ^@*@^  
  


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_**The Story of You and Me : Memoriam**_  
_By Raven Pan_  
  


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I can hear them crying . . . . I can hear the catches in their breath, the soft sounds of the tears falling on the bed sheet covering me. I can hear the heartbroken words spoken in soft tones.  
  
I don't think they know I can hear them. They hold no hope for me. They say I'm dying. I don't mind though . . . dying. I've been dead since I felt the spirit you and I share torn from me. I'm not really alive.   
  
I'm not quite dead either.  
  
It's like . . . I'm in some sort of limbo - unsure of just what will happen to me. I have no control over my fate any more - I'm not sure just why I'm still alive, anyway.  
  
I can hear them crying . . . but I can't see them through the haze of memories that surround me. Through the heated coils of loss that burn away painfully at my heart.  
  
The memories that sift, disjointed through my mind. It's like . . . there's a DVD player with everything I've ever done with you, that I can remember about us, our friendship, everything - only it's skipping like a record, back and forth, and around. Jumping from one scene to the next without any respect to time.  
  
In the end . . . Time is all there is.  
  
It's quiet now . . . I think I heard a few words of goodbye. I don't know . . . it doesn't matter.   
  
Only the memories matter . . . only _they_ can push back the pain and make it bearable.  
  
Here comes another, now . . . one of my favourites. Our moms used to tell us that we met when we were small, but I don't remember that . . . so, to _me_, this is when we first time we met.  
  
I was two, hiding behind my mother as she greeted Bulma. I remember peeking around her skirt and seeing a kid, a little older, peeking out from behind her.  
  
I remember us making faces at each other before laughing. "You have purple hair! You look like a _girl._"  
  
Looking back, it's almost funny how you stepped out from behind Bulma and folded your arms. "Well _you_ look like you stuck your finger in a _socket!_" you shot back at me.  
  
I stepped out and rubbed at my head, coming closer. I think our mothers stopped talking then, but I don't know for sure. "What's a socket?"  
  
"Well . . . a socket is . . ." your eyes crossed, "a rocket that's made out of a sock."  
  
"What's a rocket?"  
  
You laughed at me, but I didn't mind. You waved a hand, "C'mon, let's go play!"  
  
I remember bounding over to you, "What's your name? I'm Goten."  
  
"I'm Trunks."  
  
"What kind of name is that? Are you named after Underwear?"  
  
"Well, What kind of name is Goten . . . hey!" you turned to your mother, "MOOOOOOM, Why'm I named after UNDERWEAR!!!!"  
  
Come to think of it, I don't think Bulma ever answered, she was too busy laughing, and we were too small to have attention spans long enough to wait for an answer. "What do you wanna play?"  
  
"We can go play in my room, I gots lots of toys!"  
  
"You have TOYS?!?" I remember being in awe. I didn't have a lot of toys, just a couple, mostly things Gohan had made me.  
  
You grabbed my hand and dragged me all the way to your room. I remember seeing all those toys, just thrown everywhere, and I remember being in awe.  
  
For all of zero point six seconds before we started playing.  
  
When the sun was ready to go down, we were both tired . . . I remember you telling me it was time for bed. I remember telling you I wasn't allowed to stay out after dark, and you said we were inside so it didn't count.  
  
I wonder if Mom, or Bulma, still have that picture? The two of us curled in the middle of the bed, covers off on the floor somewhere. Your head cradled by my legs . . . and me sucking on your big toe. You used to call it 'Chibi Yin-Yang' . . . . Do you remember?  
  
I miss you. I want to be with you. I want you to tell me it's going to be all right . . . that the pain will go away and we'll be together again. I want . . . to know if you miss me as much as I miss you. If you've decided to play pranks on King Yemma until I can join you. If . . . if you know that I'm trapped here, or if you think I've abandoned you.  
  
I'd never abandon you. _Never._ Please, don't think that . . . .  
  
I should know better than to worry . . . You know me better than anyone, you should know I have no control of what happens to me now. Fate is cruel. Once, when you were about sixteen, you told me, "Don't fuck with Fate, Goten - she'll just grab you by the balls and drag you around until you submit."  
  
One time, not too long later, you saved me from an accidental overdose. I had a bad cold, and I figured, being half Saiyajin, that I'd probably need more than the average dosage. I felt terrible, like my head and lungs were going to explode . . . so I did what any teenaged guy would do. I took four . . . . Bottles.  
  
I remember I woke up in a hospital, and you were right there with me. You said my mom was in the other room bawling her eyes out, thinking it was a suicide attempt. You knew better, but then you always did. Then you told me what I'd done, and why I was there. "Maybe it was my fate to take too much medicine?" I remember asking groggily.   
  
I remember you rolling your eyes, muttering something. I didn't catch much . . . I caught the word 'fuck' though, and the word 'fate'.  
  
"I thought we weren't supposed to fuck with Fate?" I tried to make a joke. I could see there were some circles under your eyes, could feel your hand trembling with the emotion you refused to let show on your face, as it held mine.  
  
"I don't fuck with Fate . . . unless Fate fucks with_ you_, Chibi."  
  
I wish I was strong enough . . . . Strong enough to keep Fate from taking you away . . . from tearing us apart.  
  
King Yemma wasn't too mad with you when you showed up, was he? I doubt he's forgotten us shaving off his beard when we were kids. Do you remember? Back when our dads were fighting Buu, and we got to be dead just for a little while. It was right before we met the Metamoru . . . right before our fates were changed.  
  
I'll never forget the look on his face . . . I hope he let you in heaven anyway.  
  
Or . . . are you waiting for me? Like, after school, that one time when I got detention for sleeping in class? I can almost picture you there, standing in the doorway, the wind pushing your hair around, your hands in your pockets . . . and that smirk.  
  
_Are_ you waiting for me?  
  
That first day . . . the first one I remember with you . . . I remember we got into a fight. It didn't last long, but back then, to me, it seemed the worst thing in the world . . . fighting with someone I'd only just met.  
  
"My dad's the strongest in the _universe_!"  
  
"_My _dad's stronger than_ your _dad!"  
  
"Nu uh, _mine _died to save the planet!"  
  
"Well then mine's GOTTA be stronger, cause he's still_ alive!_"  
  
I must have had a shocked look on my face as I spoke in a small voice, "But . . . my daddy saved the _world_ . . ." because you went from arms-folded scowling, to hugging me in an instant.  
  
"It's okay, Goten, I'm sorry, that was mean. I shouldn'ta said that."  
  
I learned later that you . . . admitting you had been wrong, somehow, was a very rare thing. Funny though, I think I knew that even then. I remember I sniffled and nodded while you hugged me. "Yeah."  
  
You pulled away, and got this serious look on your face, like you were trying to think about something. Then you nodded, "I'm _always_ gonna take care of you, Goten."  
  
I need you to take care of me now . . . I need . . . . I _need_ you, Trunks, I need you to come for me, I can't do this alone, I need you by my side. You've always been there, long as I can remember.  
  
But you're not here now, are you . . . you're not here to see everyone crying, to see _me _. . . .  
  
I caught my reflection in the window last night, there was a lightning storm. It's one of the few times I've actually been able to see where I was, instead of just feel the reality around me, while my eyes show me memories.  
  
I look terrible, almost as bad as I feel . . . or maybe worse. Would you still love me, if you could see how I am now? Just a shell, a body that's too thin, too pale, too far gone to react to anything.  
  
Do you remember when we gave each other the flu? Back and forth, we were sick for months, because one of us would get better just as the other came down . . . .   
  
Do you remember when you failed all your courses your freshman year in highschool . . . just so they'd hold you back into the same grade with me?  
  
Do you remember us speaking Ebonics only, in English Language class, for one year straight? Poor Mrs. Murasaki . . . .  
  
Do you remember when the sports team caught us wrestling in the showers? I don't remember just why, we just started goofing off, and they walked in just as you were on the floor behind me, tugging on my ears . . . and I was biting your foot.  
  
Do you remember playing sick for a month, so we didn't have to face the looks, the questions?  
  
Do . . . do you remember _anything_, or did Heaven erase your memory of our lives together?  
  
I _need _you . . . I need you more now, than I ever have before. You said you'd always take care of me, but you're not _here_ now. You're _not_ taking care of me.  
  
I didn't abandon you on purpose, it wasn't really my choice to stay alive when you died. Don't be mad at me, I can't help what's happening. I have no control, I promise!  
  


* * *

  
I think I was asleep . . . I don't know. Can you even _hear_ me, from where you are, Trunks? Can you _see _me? Tell me what's happening . . . someone's hand just touched my forehead, and it's hot.  
  
It feels so hot, like it's going to burn me. And I feel so _cold._  
  
Now the bed's moving. I thought everyone had left . . . Who is it, Trunks? Are _you_ here? Can you have come for me? I know my eyes are open, but all I see is black . . . like the despair that's smothering me.  
  
It's Marron . . . . Should I try to hear what she's saying? Is it more goodbyes?  
  
She's crying . . . . I don't like it when Marron cries . . . make her stop!  
  
What's she saying?  
  
_~ . . . n-need you! Please Goten, I can't do this on my own . . . .~_  
  
What can't she do? Why does she need me, Trunks? She _hated_ us . . . and I'm not even really alive. What can I do, how can I-. She took my hand . . . _why?_ She . . . she's making me touch her?  
  
_~There's a baby inside of me, Goten. Can you feel it? You and Trunks . . . Gotenks - this is his baby. And I need you. Please don't leave me alone. Not now . . . .~_  
  
Oh Kami . . . Trunks we . . . she . . . . I think I might cry. It _hurts_ . . . Is she lying? Is it _real_? I can't breathe . . . . Help me . . . help me get control long enough to feel. To _know_ . . . .  
  
She wasn't lying . . . Through my weakly gripped hand, I can feel the Ki inside, a unique mixture of mine, and hers, and . . . _yours_. You . . . I can feel _you _inside her. Is that what it means to father a child?  
  
I don't know how it happened, but she's put my head on her stomach, I think. I can't tell, it's soft, and hot, warm . . . alive and rising ever so slightly as she breathes.  
  
_~The baby needs you, Goten,~_ her voice sounds strange, so far away . . . . _ ~I . . . I can't do this without you.~_  
  


* * *

  
I don't think she's said anything since then . . . I know she cried a lot. Trunks, is this _real_? Is it possible that what we did together, just once, has resulted in_ this_?  
  
I don't know what to do, Trunks - what do I _do_? Is this why I wasn't able to come with you? Is _this _why I was left behind? Did you . . . did you know I'd have to stay _here _and protect Marron?  
  
What do I do? You always had the answers. I can feel your Ki here with me, even though I know it's the child, and not really_ you_. Or is it? Are you with me after all? I can't move, again - I can't really see. It's all so black, Trunks. So _black_, even with my eyes open.  
  
What do you want me to do? Tell me what to do. I need you, as much as she says she needs me. I can't do this without you, Trunks. I _need_ you to take care of me . . . so I can take care of _her _. . . . Like it should be . . . . Like . . . .  
  
Do you remember the time, we must have been only nine and ten, that we lay on the grass by our lake and just watched the clouds go by? My head was on your stomach, and we lay back, spending hours naming the shapes we saw. I always seemed to find fantasy things, and you always saw darker ones.   
  
"What's that look like to you, Go-chan?" You asked me.  
  
"It looks like a hippo singing karioke and a lion holding his head cause he's singing so bad." I turned my head a bit from where it was on your stomach, looking at you. "What do you see?"  
  
"Piccolo trying to meditate while a couple of demons-" Suddenly you sat up and I was sent tumbling to the ground. "Seeing cloud-shapes is _dumb_!" You declared emphatically, as though it were an immovable truth.  
  
I remember you wouldn't change your mind . . . but I also remember you saying I could still look at the clouds if I wanted to.  
  
"But if I look at the clouds and see shapes, then I'm dumb too, Trunks."  
  
"No."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Cause I said so, and I'm a prince. So it's dumb for everyone . . . except you, Chibi."  
  
"Okay." I flopped back down on the grass, laying on my back as I watched the clouds roll by.   
  
I remember you lay down next to me, resting your head on my stomach this time, and you fell asleep.  
  
Do you _remember?_  
  
I'll never forget any moment we spent together, from the time I recall of our meeting, to . . . .  
  
No _not_ this one, Kami, please not _this _memory . . . .  
  
You were hurt, run through with your own sword. And then . . . .   
  
Blood, spilling on the ground, covering my hands. Hate and rage _pouring_ through my body to where I couldn't take it any longer. It hurt . . . it _burned_ . . . it thirsted for _murder_. And then as quickly as it wrapped me in its grotesque clutches. . . .  
  
It was gone, and you were there, bleeding.  
  
_Dying._  
  
Every moment, every pain, every heartbeat, every touch, every tear. No matter how much it _hurts_ to remember, I don't want to lose _any _moment I spent with you, no matter how horrible, or brief. I can't lose any moment. It's all etched into my memory, indelible.  
  
I remember it all . . . . I _promise_ I'll never forget.  
  
I tried to save you. I honestly did, but I wasn't fast enough. I'm _so_ sorry. _Please_ don't be mad at me. Just . . . be there when I finally get to come to you. Be _there,_ and take care of me like you used to.  
  
Like I remember.  
  
It's so _cold_ here without you, Trunks. So . . . so _dark._  
  
I feel so . . ._ empty_. So. . . .  
  


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_~OWARI~_  
  
Please review!  


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